


A Family Weekend

by Anonymous



Series: little jon [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Caregiver Sasha, Caregiver Tim, Gen, Non-Sexual Age Play, season one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:54:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27798064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Jon's stressed after his first two weeks in the Archives. He spends a little one on one time with Tim and Sasha to cope.
Relationships: Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Tim Stoker, Sasha James & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Sasha James & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Tim Stoker
Series: little jon [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2009716
Comments: 48
Kudos: 125
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place before the events of the series so far!

“I’m fine. I promise.”

Tim and Sasha eyed him dubiously. Jon knew it had been stressful two weeks, his first days as Head Archivist were not going, as you’d say, ‘swimmingly.’ He rather felt he was drowning.

But Tim and Sasha had been steady and patient with him, far more than he deserved. They’d been so concerned when he told them about the promotion, worried that he couldn’t handle it. He wasn’t surprised. Jon was a nervous man, easily thrown off by any change in his schedule or the slightest of inconveniences. He knew he wasn’t easy to get on with. How they stand to be around him, much less take care of him when he went little, Jon couldn’t fathom. He was certainly lucky to have them.

But he bristled as soon as they voiced their concern, as gentle as it was. Tim had a hand on his back, asking if he was sure he wanted to go through with it. Sasha had asked the same, but Jon could see the odd look in her eye. He knew she was expecting the job. He shouldn’t have taken it. He was awful, just terrible. _Bad._

So he wriggled out of Tim’s hands at the end of the day, isolating himself. He dodged them in the corridors, trying desperately not to slip into headspace. Elias allowed him use of his side office, offering to take him down to the Archives to help ‘ease the transition.’ He was so nice, so understanding. Strange that he wanted him to be Head Archivist, knowing what he knew about Jon. But Elias promised he could see his potential, and for once Jon dared to believe it. At least _someone_ seemed happy about his new job. 

But he needed assistants, and he knew who he wanted. Tim and Sasha.

It had taken the better part of a week before he broke down, pale and shaking on Tim’s doorstep, sobbing like the child he currently felt like. They ushered him in, promised to help him, and held him in their arms. They loved him, and in the end, would always support him.

But Martin Blackwood threw an unanticipated wrench in his plans. 

Elias didn’t tell him he was going to have three assistants, just told him to pick two. And now Martin was down here, messing everything up. They’d taken to darting around him when Jon got too close to headspace, and it was frankly very exhausting. He had half a mind to call Elias, explain the situation to him. Wouldn’t it be easier if the Archives was limited to people who knew about Jon’s condition? But he always stopped before he picked up the phone, too afraid of looking weak. He was already asking so much of Elias, he shouldn’t need to be catered to like this. 

It was hard not to like Martin, with his big, cozy sweaters and his steaming mugs of tea. He had a nice smile. He looked like he would give good hugs. Jon pushed down those childish thoughts, and instead put on a scowl. Best to keep Martin at arms length, who knows what he would do if he found out?

So after two weeks of this nonsense, he was understandably exhausted. Not to mention the terrible state of the Archive itself. He recorded his first statement two days ago. His first...bad one. He’d been keeping Tim and Sasha up all night with his nightmares, he could tell by the dark shadows under their eyes. So naturally, when they came to collect him to take him home for the weekend, he refused. They deserved a rest. A break.

From him.

Sasha hugged him tightly, whispering her ‘I love yous.’ Jon almost gave in then. Tim took him just as fiercely in his arms, not letting go until Jon started to wiggle in his hold. “Promise us you’ll call if you need to, yeah? Even if it’s just to say hi. I’ll be checking in.” He pressed a kiss to Jon’s forehead. “Are you sure you don’t want us to take you home? The station’s not that far.”

Jon reluctantly pulled away. “No, it’s fine. I’ll...I just need some time alone.”

They nodded, though they still weren’t convinced. They respected his boundaries. That’s what made them so good.

The problem was, he _didn’t_ need some time alone. The thought of being in his small, dark flat by himself made him shiver with anxiety. But if he couldn’t get through a weekend as an adult, what good was he as a Head Archivist? This would be a test for himself, he shouldn’t be so dependent on his friends. 

He sat at home in his bedroom with no toys, no sign that he regressed visible in the flat. Most of that had been moved over to Tim’s apartment, in a hopeless bid to get him to move in with them. What he wouldn’t give for his comfy PJs and warm fuzzy blanket right then.

Instead he just shivered, drawing the duvet closer to his chest. He wanted his stuffies, He wanted his bed. He wanted his Mama and Papa.

But he was alone.

* * *

  
  


Tim’s phone rang. He fumbled with it in his pocket and answered as soon as he saw the name.

_Jon._

It was Saturday morning. Sasha had gone off with a friend for lunch and shopping, Tim had convinced her to get out of the flat after she spent much of the evening pacing around the living room, looking longingly at the toys on the ground. Jon’s presence was sorely missed.

But he told them he needed space. And it didn’t feel right to push him, no matter how much they wanted to.

“Hey there, boss-man!” he said jovially. “How’re you holding up?”

A tiny sniffle, and Tim’s heart broke. 

“Buddy?” he immediately tempered the volume of his voice. That tiny sniffle told Tim a lot: Jon was upset, tired, and likely in a state of panic. That happened sometimes, after a particularly bad night. He imagined Jon, all alone in that apartment, waking up in headspace and not knowing what to do.

Luckily, he’d phoned Tim. Just like he taught his boy to do. 

“P-Papa,” Jon’s voice was high and brittle, like he was liable to break if Tim said the wrong word. “C-Can- can you _p’ease-”_ He broke off into sobs and Tim was out the door, practically forgetting his car keys in his haste to get to Jon.

“I’ll be over there in a second, bud. Don’t you worry.” He’s already throwing his bag on the seat- he’d planned to go to the gym, but he’d switched thought out for his emergency Jon-bag. Sasha had come up with it, and he’s had to use it several times already. “I’ll keep you on the line. How are you doing, sweetheart?”

“S-Scared.” Jon’s whimper came through the speaker, and Tim had to fight with himself to go the speed limit. God forbid he get into an accident, and leave Jon all alone.

“That’s okay, buddy. Just stay in your bed, and Papa will be there before you know it!”

The fifteen minutes it took to get there (should’ve been thirty, really, but Tim was pulling some real shitty moves) were excruciating. He raced up the stairs to Jon’s flat, putting the key in the lock and peering inside. It was so _dark._ There was barely any sign of little Jon’s presence here, even big Jon was barely noticeable with the small piles of books and papers. They really needed to get Jon moved in with the two of them.

He heard Jon before he saw him. Two little feet pounded on the hardwood and arms snaked around his waist. “Aw, buddy. Don’t worry, Papa’s here.”

Jon’s face was streaked with tears. His hair was a mess, his clothes didn’t look nearly as comfy as the ones they had at home. His face was pale and gaunt; god, when had he gotten so thin? Ever since Jon got the promotion, Tim couldn’t help but feel like a neglectful parent. Jon was spiraling, and all he could do was watch as the man pushed him away. But he’d called, and that’s all that mattered.

“Couldn’ _sleep,_ and-and scary _noises-”_ Jon’s breathing hitched and Tim pulled him over to the couch, settling him against his side and putting a hand gently on his chest.

“Breathe with me, bud. Nice n’ easy. That’s a good boy.” Jon burrowed into his side as his breathing slowed and his cries quieted to the occasional whimper. Poor thing. Jon looked so fragile like this, and it hurt Tim’s heart to see. He debated on whether or not to call Sasha, but ultimately decided he could handle it. Sasha wouldn’t be pleased, but he liked spending one on one time with his boy. It would be nice to have a day with just the two of them.

“Now, I’m guessing you haven’t eaten yet,” Tim mused, giving Jon a tap on the nose. He giggled and squirmed away, a good sign that his mood was improving. “Let’s get something in your tummy, okay?” Jon nodded and followed him to the kitchen, trailing behind him like a little duckling. Sasha had gotten groceries last week and Jon’s cupboards were still full. He’d spent the past couple of days at their house, and he had a very hard time eating on his own. More reason he should move in with us, Tim thought.

Poptarts. Tim couldn’t help but question Jon’s taste, but it made the little guy happy. It was hard not to give him whatever he wanted. But he cut up a banana as well, hoping to give him some nutrition. 

“Don’ wan’ _dat,”_ Jon tried to push it away with his hand, but Tim gave him a stern look. If he gave into Jon’s every whim, he’d be even more malnourished than he already was. But Jon _knew_ his weaknesses. And little Jon was even more ruthless. His eyes went wide and shiny with tears, as if Tim were holding a knife instead of a cut up piece of banana. “Papa _p’ease.”_

Tim made a theatrical groan, only half-faked. “Look, if you eat _half_ the banana, I’ll take you to the park. And we can get ice cream later. How does that sound?” He was going to do that anyway, but Jon doesn’t know that. The tears immediately disappeared and Jon went still, opening his mouth obediently. “Good boy.” He’s rewarded with a messy smile.

They managed half a poptart and half a banana before Jon started to squirm, and Tim took that as a victory. The comfiest clothes in Jon’s closet were buried in the back: a pair of grey sweatpants and an oversized hoodie for some podcast Tim would have to ask him about later. He got Jon’s hair in some form of a messy bun (Sasha was much better with this) and with the whole ensemble he looked cute as a button. Well, he always looked cute, much to Jon's chagrin. He wondered if Martin would be able to recognize this Jon if he saw him. Probably not.

“Park! Park!” Jon stamped his little feet in the doorway, impatient. Tim sighed but smiled, grabbing his hand and leading him out of the flat. The park was only a stone’s throw from Jon’s flat, a small swing set in the back of a church with a bit of woods. It was usually empty, particularly at this time of day, so no one would bother Jon as he swung happily. He was small enough to look rather child-like anyway, if you didn’t see the little premature streaks of grey in his hair. 

Not that Tim particularly cared what others thought. While the situation was uncommon, it wasn’t unheard of, and he’d hurt anyone who so much as snickered at his boy. Jon was friendly and sweet, if sometimes an adventurous handful. He’d told him once about his childhood in Bournemouth, and how he was constantly running away and exploring new places. If Jon had the love he needed as a child, who knows what he would be like now? Life seemed to have dampened that adventurous spirit, but it was nice to see him get a second chance at it. Tim just wished it didn’t happen only in stressful situations.

When Jon tired himself on the swings, he jumped off, barely landing on his feet. “Whoa there, buddy! Little dizzy?” Jon nodded with a giggle, and slumped into Tim’s arms. “Why don’t we take a break, go for a walk?” He got an excited squeal in response. 

It was only a short path in the woods, but Jon babbled the entire way, most of it nonsense. “Ghosts!” he yelled, tugging at Tim’s sleeve. Tim nodded seriously, narrowing his eyes and crouching down as if to duck out of the way of any rogue spirits. This continued with several different variations- ‘vampires!’ ‘pirates!’ ‘cops!’ One of these things was not like the other. Well, maybe not.

It was only when Jon’s pants were almost completely covered in mud that he let them leave. “Messy baby,” Tim murmured. “Mama’s going to wonder what happened.”

“Mama!” Jon chirped. Tim wondered if he had a favorite parent when he was like this. The thought of it being Sasha made him slightly jealous, but he quickly tamped that down. Jon needed different things from the both of them, it made sense. And they made a great team. 

“Papa said ice c’eam,” Jon tugged at his sleeve, leaving no room for argument. “Ice _c’eam.”_

“You’ll get your ice _‘c’eam’,_ buddy. Papa always keeps his promises.”

“Kay.”

They get ice cream, though most of it ended up on Jon’s face instead of in his stomach. He always went for soft serve vanilla on a cone, with rainbow sprinkles. One of the messiest choices. Sasha chose this unfortunate moment to Facetime.

“Tim! Where are you? I just got back from-”

“Mama!” Came an ungodly screech as Jon tugged the phone out of Tim’s hand and smiled at the screen. Sasha was definitely happy to see her baby, but less so to see the state of him. You wouldn’t be able to tell from the sweet tone she was using with Jon, though.

“Sweetheart! Mama’s got some presents for you, wanna come home and see?” Jon almost dropped the phone in his delight; he tended to get a little shaky when the happiness was too much for him. “Put Papa back on, okay?” Tim gulped.

He had some explaining to do.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Tim go back to the apartment and attempt to get Jon presentable for Sasha. It doesn't really work.

“Okay buddy, here’s what we’re gonna do,” Tim said as he tugged Jon along. “We’re gonna stop at your apartment real quick, get you all cleaned up, and then go see Mama, alright?”

“K-Kay,” Jon huffed, trying in vain to keep up with Tim’s long stride. “Papa’s goin’ too _fast._ Slow, p’ease?” Tim looked down apologetically, he always forgot how little Jon’s legs truly were.

“Sorry!” he said, slowing down to give Jon a chance to catch his breath. He crouched down, offering his back. “Wanna have a ride instead?” He got his answer with a small weight launching at his back, almost tipping him over with the force of it. “Easy, easy!”

“Papa _go!”_ Jon commanded. And Tim was never one to let him down. They made it back to Jon’s flat in record time, a mixture of galloping and short sprints that had Jon laughing in delight. Tim let him slide from his back and turned around, helping him with his shoes that were currently caked in mud. 

“Gonna have to clean those,” he muttered to himself. “Now stay here, alright? I’m gonna fetch you a new pair of pants. Gosh, you are so _messy._ ”

“Messy!” Jon agreed, but stayed in place like Tim asked. He quickly made his way to the bedroom, searching for another pair of comfortable pants to no avail. He settled on a pair of black pajama pants- it wasn’t like they were going anywhere. And little Jon hated wearing jeans or nice trousers.

“Alright, buddy, we’re gonna get you nice and- _Jon!”_ Jon was sat in the center of the couch, happily kicking his feet and probably leaving a giant muddy patch on the couch. He smiled up at Tim innocently, the leftover ice cream still coating his mouth and face. 

“I move!” he stated proudly. God, he was adorable. Would be nice if he listened every once in a while. 

“I see that, sweetheart,” he sighed, gesturing for him to come over. Jon hopped down from the couch and sure enough there was dirt all over it. That’s a problem for big Jon, he thought. Or Sasha, if I’m being honest.

It was easy to slip him out of the oversized sweats and into the pajama pants, cinching them tightly around his waist so they wouldn’t fall down. “Now let’s go to the kitchen, since I can’t trust you around furniture.”

“Can’t,” Jon nodded. It sounded like agreement, but it was most likely just Jon’s love of repeating words. He wet a cloth from the kitchen with warm water and brought it gently across his face, concern growing as he took in the dark circles under Jon’s eyes. The nightmares, the insomnia. It was all catching up to him. He would need a nap today, though he’d have to be lulled into it. He always put up too much of a fuss if they tried to deposit him in bed in the middle of the day.

“Our chariot awaits, my prince!” he said, bowing in an exaggerated manner. “Onward!” Jon was on his back, and they were off. On the second flight of stairs, however, he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder and flinched. He couldn’t turn his head much to see, but he could feel Jon’s hair brushing his neck, and his little teeth sunk into his shirt. “Jon, no! Biting is _bad._ ”

“Why?” came the answer, muffled around a mouthful of sweater. Jon dislodged himself, leaving a bit of drool at his shoulder. “Papa make me _happy.”_

“Generally, happy people don’t bite,” Tim said, walking outside and sliding Jon onto his feet. “That hurt Papa. He didn’t like that.” He fumbled for his car keys, pressing the button and unlocking the door just in time to see Jon’s eyes go big and fill with tears.

“S-Sorry! M’ sorry! D-Din’ mean to-” Tim swept him up into an easy hug- god, he was such a sucker for Jon’s tears, it was unbearable to see him sad. Jon’s arms wound around his neck and squeezed, his breaths coming in quivering little gasps.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” he soothed, rubbing a hand up and down his back. “I’m not angry, you just surprised me. Let’s go home to Mama, yeah?” Jon nodded against his neck, allowing him to detach himself and open the car door. He helped Jon into the passenger seat, buckling him in and giving him a pat on the tummy. “Good to go, pal?” Jon nodded and giggled.

And with that, they were off.

* * *

Sasha gave a critical gaze to her two boys, watching as they twitched nervously in front of here.

“Jon sweetheart, come here,” she cooed, watching as he shuffled slowly in front of her, looking up with imploring eyes.

“Hi Mama,” he said in a tiny voice. She gave him a smile, running her fingers through his hair and watching as she dislodged a little hunk of mud from his locks. 

“Tim,” she said, using her sternest tone. “Mud. In his hair. How on _earth_ did he get mud in his hair?”

Tim shrugged, a hand coming up to sheepishly rub at the back of his neck. “He’s kicky,” he said, attempting to explain himself. “And not very tall. So the mud gets...everywhere.”

“Then maybe don’t let him play in mud, Tim!” She sighed, bringing Jon into her side. “You’re gonna need a bath, baby.”

“Like bath,” Jon replied, nuzzling into her side. “Like mud too.” She rolled her eyes fondly. 

“C’mon, then. Let’s get you all clean.” She nudged him into the bathroom, turning towards Tim as she left. “Think you can amuse yourself, dear?”

“I’ll try my best, love.”

* * *

  
  


Splash.

“You ready to come out, sweetie?”

Another splash. 

Sasha sighed, twirling a finger around in the water. It had been a half hour, and Jon was showing no sign of wanting to leave. This was her fault, of course- she’d used his favorite bubble bath, and let him splash around after she finished washing him up. “Aren’t you hungry? Did Papa feed you lunch?”

Splash. “Ice c’eam.”

“That’s not lunch. Did you have breakfast, at least?”

Another splash, this time coating Sasha’s shirt. “Poptart. ‘Nana.”

“One fruit. Good job, Tim.” She wasn’t sure if she meant this or not, getting Jon to eat anything at all was half the battle. She watched Jon splash and squeal for a few more minutes, smiling gently at the picture he made. But then he paused, looking unusually pensive for headspace.

“Mama?” he asked softly, staring down at the water. She frowned, putting a hand on his back.

“What’s wrong, darling? You look so sad.” Little Jon was usually so lively, and when he threw a tantrum or got upset, he was rather dramatic about it and generally easily soothed. She hadn’t seen this side of him before.

“D’you still love me when ‘m big?” He turned those big eyes on Sasha and she froze like a deer in headlights.

What in the world brought this on? Had she and Tim been neglecting him? Did he not feel...loved? That couldn't possibly be the case. Her heart sank as she tucked one of Jon’s locks behind his ear.

“Of course we do, baby!” She leaned forward to press a kiss to his forehead, ignoring the water that coated her top as she did so. “Mama and Papa love you, big or small. Why would you think that?”

“Dunno,” he shrugged, casting his eyes back down to the water. “Don’ hug me as much ‘ny more. ‘M not...not _nice._ But ‘m sad.”

She thought of all the running around they’d been doing, trying to keep an eye on Jon without letting Martin know what they were up to. It was true, there was a lot less contact between them, and they’d been trying not to smother Jon with the attention they thought he rightly deserved. Now that Jon was their boss, he seemed very keen on having professional boundaries. 

But Jon wasn’t very good with speaking his mind when he’s big. He was always saying things without truly meaning them, whether in the form of a snipe or an instruction. She thought she’d gotten good at reading him, but then again...maybe not.

“We’ll hug you as much as you want, I promise,” she said, serious as she could so Jon would understand that she meant it. “And we’ll talk about it when you’re big, just so we’re on the same page. But always remember that Mama and Papa love you so, so much. Okay?”

“Kay.” Simple as that, he went back to splashing. “Can we have nuggets for dinner?”

She blinked, recovering in time to smile. “If that’s what you want, that’s what you’ll get!”

* * *

“Don’t touch that, Mama hasn’t cooked them yet.”

“Dinos!”

“Your favorite.” Sasha was arranging said dino nuggets on a metal pan as Jon bounced impatiently behind her. She shuffled around the kitchen, attempting to find her oven mitts. “Tim! Where did you put-”

She was interrupted by a loud cry coming from her left; Jon stood there, a frozen nugget between his teeth as his eyes started to water, his hands shaking in what looked like fright.

“Jon!” she said, though she couldn’t help the laughter that escaped from her mouth. He looked so ridiculous, standing there with a frozen dino nugget in his mouth. “Just spit it out!”

He didn’t though, and instead just let out a whine as the tears rolled down his face. She started to laugh in earnest, though she still hurried over to pry the nugget from his mouth. “I told you not to touch them, baby! They aren’t ready yet.” Tim entered the room, immediately sweeping Jon into his arms and snuggling him against his chest. He was always the more indulgent of the two of them.

“Mean Mama, laughing at her baby,” Tim chastised, though his eyes were sparkling with humor. Jon sniffled dramatically in his arms, peeking over his shoulder to see if Sasha looked appropriately apologetic. She managed to turn her smile into an exaggerated frown. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Mama didn’t mean to laugh.”

He turned away in a huff and Tim rubbed his back in comfort. “Let’s go play some video games. Leave mean old Mama to cook her dinner.” Jon giggled as she swatted at Tim’s shoulder. The only video game Jon ever wanted to play was Mario Kart, and it always consisted of Tim and Sasha driving backwards while Jon continually fell off the sides of the course. He never tired of it, though.

Sasha watched the two of them as they settled onto the couch, Jon in Tim’s lap while he booted up the Switch. She smiled; she loved their little family, but it still needed some work, especially with Jon’s promotion. She’d talk with Tim tonight once they put Jon down, and spend some sorely needed time with her baby tomorrow. 

Jon was going to have a nice weekend. She would make sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's going to be one more chapter of this with Sasha and Jon. Then I'll be moving on to some other ideas you guys have given me, feel free to suggest anything in the comments! I've really enjoyed reading your thoughts. Thanks for reading!!


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Sasha spend the day together and have a talk.

“He said that?”

Tim and Sasha were sitting on the couch, Jon having been put to bed after wolfing down five of the dinosaur chicken nuggets. It was rather early in the evening but Jon hadn’t napped today and he would likely sleep through the night. He practically passed out in Tim’s arms as soon as he was dressed for bed.

And now they had to talk.

“He looked so _sad,_ Tim,” Sasha said, leaning her head on his shoulder. “You should have seen his face. Have we been going about this all wrong?”

Tim slung an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. “We’re all adjusting, we’re bound to make some mistakes. But he’s pulling away, and we’ve got to make sure he knows we support him no matter what.”

“I think it’s sort of my fault,” Sasha said, her voice going small. She remembered the moment Jon told her he got the promotion, looking so scared but also a bit proud. He always wanted to prove himself, not only in the field but to Tim and Sasha. But she knew her face blanched as soon as he told her, and watching his face fall in turn was heartbreaking. Still, she didn’t expect it. Didn’t expect the old woman to disappear, and didn’t expect to be passed over for the job. “I can tell he feels guilty and I don’t think I did a good enough job of letting him know it was okay.”

“You can’t blame yourself,” Tim replied firmly. “No one expected it, least of all us. I’m a bit worried about what’s going to happen with Elias, though. If he finds out about Jon…”

“I don’t know how long we can hide it.” Sasha shook her head. “He’s been so stressed lately, and you know how that makes him slip into headspace.” She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I know I said I’d leave if I didn't get promoted, but I don’t think I could do that to him, y’ know?”

“He would understand, I think. If you explained it. He knows how hard you’ve tried to advance. You deserve more than being an assistant.” Tim was always encouraging her, that’s what she loved about him.

“Thirty-three year old assistant. It’s not very flattering.” She gave a weak laugh. “Maybe once he finds his footing. But right now he needs me. Needs us. I can’t do that to him.”

“We’ll talk to him tomorrow or Monday, once he’s out of headspace,” Tim decided. He was right, they needed to have a discussion. “Meanwhile, I think you should have some time with our baby. I’ll go to the gym, run some errands. Sound like a plan?”

Sasha nodded- she liked the idea of getting some one on one time with him. It had been too long. “Yeah, let’s-”

She was interrupted by a small whine coming from the doorway. Jon was standing there, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. “Lonely,” he whispered, sounding on the verge of tears. “P’ease come.” He made grabby hands and Tim was already on his way, scooping him up and snuggling him close to his chest.

It looked like they would have an early night too.

* * *

Jon was still little in the morning. Sasha had expected this, and didn’t mind it one bit.

Tim managed to get him to eat an entire bowl of oatmeal, which was quite the feat. He’d left a few minutes ago with a kiss to both of their cheeks and a promise to be back soon. He always cut his time out of the house short when Jon stayed over. It was only natural. 

Jon was currently bundled up in a blanket on the sofa, watching cartoons while Sasha snuck away to grab the stuffie she’d bought him yesterday. It was a rather large bunny with floppy ears, something she was sure he didn’t have (and he had a lot- if Tim saw something cute, he immediately bought it- no impulse control, that man). 

“You were a very good boy this morning,” Sasha cooed, drawing Jon away from his cartoons. “And you know what good boys get?” She brought the rabbit out from behind her back, smiling at Jon’s yelp of delight. “Presents!” She plopped down on the couch as Jon grabbed it out of her hand, squishing it to his chest with a pleased smile. She couldn’t help but ruffle his hair. God, he was so cute.

“Ta, Mama!” Jon’s way of saying thanks when he was overwhelmed. He was also shaking- more like vibrating, really. It was stim Jon tried to control when he was big and didn’t want to be seen as ‘less than professional,’ but it was nice to see him so unabashedly happy. 

“You’re welcome, sweetheart!” She pulled him close, kissing the top of his head. “You think of a name for him, yet?” Sometimes it took awhile for him to come up with one, other times it was almost instantaneous. This time, it was the latter.

“Sir Flop,” he stated with a solemn nod, giving the animal another squeeze. “‘Cause his _ears.”_

“That’s a very good name,” Sasha agreed. Jon’s habit of assigning every plushie a title amused her to no end. “Now, what do you want to do today? We can go for a walk, or read some books, maybe do a puzzle-”

“Puzzle!” Jon screeched, breaking the sound barrier. Sasha hid her wince as she got up from the couch, going over to the overflowing toy chest they now kept in the living room. She picked out a map of Europe- Jon loved the strange contours of the countries, and enjoyed shouting the mispronounced names of each one. His reading skills tended to vary when he was in headspace- sometimes they were very good, other times not so much. They settled onto the ground as Sasha poured out the wooden pieces, Jon setting the plushie by his side.

“Germy!” he stated as he picked up the Germany piece and promptly put it in his mouth. She could see his teeth sink a bit into the wood- God, he was so _bitey_ these days. 

“No biting, baby!” she scolded, prying the piece from his mouth. It’s not like he was teething or anything- he wasn’t _physically_ a child. She should’ve expected this, though; he was always returning pens or pencils with little bite marks that no one wanted to use. She remembered Martin’s dumbfounded face when he handed him an almost decimated pen back as if nothing were wrong. Her and Tim had to stifle their laughter.

“Is this some sort of prank?” he asked, holding the pen away from him with two fingers as if it were nuclear waste. “I don’t want this.”

So needless to say, the wooden piece now had the tell-tale chew marks of a tetchy Jon. “If you’re going to chew, do it with something _soft,”_ she said, reaching for a rubbery giraffe they kept on the end table for such purposes. He readily accepted it as Sasha wiped off the slobbery puzzle piece, putting it to the side. “Now, what’s next?”

Jon had the puzzle pretty much memorized, but he still delighted in putting it together. “OO-K!” he shouted on picking up the piece marked “United Kingdom.” France became ‘ants’ and Spain ‘spayed,’ which Sasha didn’t have the heart to correct him on (it also made her laugh). Jon’s perfectionism shone through even when he was little- every puzzle piece had to be directly and precisely placed after he waved it around excitedly. Once they were finished, he insisted on sending a picture to Tim, who responded within seconds with a blurry video of him sweating at the gym screaming ‘Good job!’ Jon watched it five times.

“Book!” he announced, staring at Sasha expectantly. She waited with a raised eyebrow; she’d taught him better than this. He relented. _“P’ease.”_

“That’s better.” She walked over to the bedroom, where a stack of books from the library lay. They never bought books for him, not anymore- he’d read them once and be done with it. The quirk resulted in several trips to the library for any book that might catch his attention. He would truly read _anything._

Except for one thing: spiders. If a book had a spider, even minutely featured, he would spiral deeply into panic. Sasha could never forget the first time it happened- his eyes went wide, his breathing quickened and he immediately burst into tears and loud sobs, ceasing only when he exhausted himself into sleep. It was terrifying, and made the both of them feel terribly guilty. So now she vetted each one to make sure there wasn’t even a mention of one.

Today’s book was a kid’s guide to astronomy. Jon loved fact books, loved to memorize and repeat them back for praise, which they readily gave. He made Sasha linger on each page and repeat the lines, which he’d whisper to himself. When Jon was big he would do something very similar, reading aloud under his breath in such a nice voice that Tim suggested he should do story time at the library. He did not take kindly to that, not at all.

It took them an hour to get through the book until Jon was satisfied, looking at every page for almost ten minutes. “Walk now,” he said, pushing the book away. “P’ease.” Sasha looked at the time.

“I think we should have lunch first,” she said, standing up and offering a hand that Jon refused. “C’mon, baby, you were so _good_ at breakfast!”

“Full!” Jon argued, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes. “Too many oats!”

Sasha sighed. “If you want to go for a walk, you gotta eat, bud.” She adopted Tim’s stern tones and nickname- he was always good with getting Jon to eat, even if the food wasn’t the healthiest. “You need your energy. How about a granola bar?”

Jon pouted, but Sasha didn’t relent. She was immune to his puppy dog eyes when it came to food. _“Kay,”_ he sighed, as if she were asking for a very difficult task. “I _eat.”_

Half a granola bar later and they were off on one of Jon’s favorite routes through a more historic neighborhood. He liked to pause in front of every plaque, read out the year, and squint at the words below it. Often Sasha would have to read it aloud for him, and he would nod like a scholar critiquing someone’s art. And then there were the _facts._

“We got _one_ moon,” he said, gesturing to the sky dramatically. “Jupiter got _many.”_

“Wow, that’s crazy!” Sasha nodded with wide eyes, adopting an astonished look. He nodded back, very proud that he’d managed to shock her. Never mind that they just read this about an hour ago.

They continued like this for another thirty minutes before Jon tired of it, lagging behind Sasha as they walked. “Time for someone to have a nap, I think.” It was a testament to his exhaustion that he actually gave in, leaning into her side.

And not thirty minutes later he was snoozing in bed when Tim arrived back home, gym bag and a few other grocery bags in tow. He tiptoed in quietly as Sasha had warned him in advance that Jon was already asleep with a cute selfie of the two of them in bed. She’d snuck out to do some reading in the living room. 

“And how was your day?” Tim whispered, kissing her on the cheek on his way to the kitchen. “Looks like you two had quite the adventure.”

“And we didn’t need to get muddy to do it,” Sasha teased, shutting her book. “He was in a very good mood. Hopefully he’s amenable to talking before work tomorrow. I don’t think I’ve seen him in headspace for this long in a while.”

“Not surprising though, given the stress he’s under,” Tim said, spreading himself out on the couch and putting his feet in Sasha’s lap. They turned on the telly to watch some ridiculous crime drama Tim’s been binging while Sasha points out every flaw. It’s one of their favorite pastimes. They get about an episode and a half in when they’re interrupted. 

“H-Hi.” That was a big Jon voice, meek though it was.

He stood in the doorway, clothes rumpled and hair a mess. His hands were fidgeting; he always got nervous when he left headspace, as if waiting for someone to yell at him. Sasha hated that he felt that way.  
  


“Hey there, sleepyhead,” Tim said with a wave. He avoided using ‘bud’ just as Sasha avoided using ‘baby’ when he was big. As much as they wanted to, it would push him towards headspace again and Jon didn’t like it when they did that, understandably. ‘Welcome back to the land of the living!” Jon gave a weak chuckle, looking out at the floor where the toys still lay in disarray, his cheeks flushing. 

“None of that, now,” Sasha said; he needed to feel less embarrassed about the little side of him. She gestured to the couch. “Come watch this shit show with us. I need someone on my side with this _nonsense.”_

Tim gasped, faking offense. “Hey!”

Jon made his way over, settling in between the two with tense shoulders. He gradually acclimated to the arrangement, leaning into Tim’s side as the show went on and adding his own sarcastic commentary. Sasha loved his biting wit, it never failed to make her laugh. Once the episode ended, Tim shut off the TV, nudging Jon who looked nervous at the sudden attention.

“You okay to talk?” Jon fidgeted anxiously, but nodded, his eyes going down to his lap. “I think there’s been some miscommunication here, on both ends. We need to know-”

“I’m sorry!” Jon burst out, his eyes closing tightly as his hands made fists in his lap. “I-I meant to spent the weekend alone, I didn’t want to bother you-”

“Jon,” Sasha interrupted, rubbing his arm with her hand. “We always want you around. You never bother us, big or small. What’s gotten into that head of yours?”

“I-I,” he let out a breath, trying to get his emotions under control. “I don’t know. It’s- it’s very weird, and now I’m your boss and I _shouldn’t_ be, and I don’t know _what to do-”_

“And that’s why we’re here to help,” Tim insisted, drawing Jon close with a strong arm. “I know things haven’t been the best, we’ve got a lot to adjust to. But we don’t blame you for the situation, at all. We _want_ you around, and we want to support you.” He smiled, nudging Jon again. “We love you!”

Jon looked up from his lap, giving them both a tentative look. “A-Are you sure?” The tone made Sasha’s heart break all over again. 

“Never been more sure of anything in my life,” Sasha replied solemnly, running her fingers through his hair in a soothing gesture. “Love you when you’re big, and love you when you’re small. Honestly, this? You and Tim? I’ve never been happier.” Jon looked at her with bright, shining eyes full of emotion and suddenly she found herself with a lapful of Archivist, hugging her tightly around her middle. She shared a look with Tim, who was smiling fondly at the man in her lap.

She pressed a kiss to the top of his head. Things would get better, they would eventually adjust. And if it took a few more hugs and kisses? Well, she wouldn’t complain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for sticking with me until the end! sorry it took so long to get out, december was very busy for me. I hope you liked the end. I plan on continuing this, probably going off the last in the series. If there's anything you want to see let me know! Thank you for reading and all the comments and kudos :)

**Author's Note:**

> Mcschnuggles commented that they'd like to see some one on one time with Jon and his caregivers, and I thought that was a great idea! Next chapter should have Sasha, unless this part of the series ends up a little longer than the others. Some other people had some great ideas as well, so I will definitely be using those as I continue! If there is anything in particular you would like to see, let me know, because I'll most likely write it! Thanks for all the great comments, I will be taking some time to reply to the latest ones soon!


End file.
